


A Singular, Obscene & Ugly Escapade

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV)
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Underage Drinking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9871964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: “Unfortunate” was insufficient to describe the events of that night. Unfortunate would imply that there was a level of luck, or lack thereof, involved in what occurred. The truth was that luck had nothing to do with it - the events were entirely the fault of human nature and underage drinking.Thus we have come to the word “obscene,” which explains both the irredeemably negative effects and the child-inappropriate actions perfectly. Luckily the night was only a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, and not in fact a piece of the Baudelaires’ story; if it had been otherwise, then “tragedy” would have become a wholly insufficient word as well, and where would we be then?





	

By the end of his first week, Klaus was  _ done  _ with Prufrock Preparatory School. He was tired and sore and, for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to read another book for at  _ least  _ a day. To make matters worse, he’d been kept out later than Violet and Sunny, and now he was stuck running back to the Orphan’s Shack alone.

Knowing his luck, of  _ course  _ he ran into some older students. They were bigger boys, and muscular, which explained why they were out near the track field so late at night. Klaus tried to duck around them before they noticed him, but it was too late.

With a sneer in his voice, the largest of the strangers said, “Hey look, it’s the Boudelaire bitch!”

Surprised, Klaus tripped over a rock in his path and nearly fell. One of the others caught him by the arm, and Klaus was left reeling. He’d hardly heard the other kids swear at all, let alone at  _ him _ . He didn’t understand why.

“Sorry,” muttered the boy holding Klaus’ skinny shoulder. “I think they snuck out some alcohol. I’m Tim, by the way.”

“Alcohol?” Klaus asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” said Tim. “The lunch ladies have lots of bottles. You didn’t know?”

He shook his head, then pulled away from Tim, who was  _ still _ holding his arm. Tim let go somewhat reluctantly, and Klaus considered telling him that they’d all be in a lot of trouble if they got caught.

Then again, Klaus didn’t have much faith in his teachers that they might actually be competent for once. Shaking his head, he tried to walk away and leave the three idiots to their illicit activities.

The first boy, however, wasn’t done with him yet. “Aw, little Klaus is scared! You’ve never had a  _ grown up _ drink before, have you bitch boy?”

“Bill,” Tim said wearily.

“Insulting my manliness would only be an effective way of goading me if I cared in the slightest what you think,” Klaus said, still walking away. “And I really don’t.”

Before he could get very far, Bill was catching him around the middle. His arms were solid, much stronger than Klaus’, who wasn’t used to lifting anything heavier than a dictionary. Klaus struggled a bit, but he didn’t have very much hope.

“Can’t insult what isn’t there!” Crowed Bill, who was currently grabbing at Klaus’ sides in an ironically ticklish way. “How about we give the little baby a hand? Put some hair on his chest!”

Quietly, the boy who hadn’t spoken yet slipped around in front of Klaus. Tim was saying something exasperated about, “Lewis, really, we shouldn’t be doing this.” Klaus would’ve thanked him for sharing all their names, but he was rather preoccupied worrying about the bottle Lewis was holding.

Of course, the one thing Klaus most wanted them  _ not _ to do was what they did. Tim protested half-heartedly as Bill forced Klaus’ mouth open, and then Lewis was sticking the neck of the bottle between his teeth and tilting it. His mouth gushed with sour, burning liquid, and Klaus coughed and choked for a moment before accidentally swallowing some.

It stained his front in sticky, brown fluid, thoroughly ruining his shirt and making his blazer rather uncomfortable. He squirmed, swallowing involuntarily again, hating the way his nose and throat felt like they’d been set on fire. Finally, Lewis pulled away, and then Bill jerked to the side.

Blinking away tears, Klaus looked up to see that Tim had forced Bill to let go.  _ Finally, he does something useful, _ Klaus thought. Then he coughed, but it didn’t lessen the pain at all.

“Lay off,” Bill was saying, smacking the back of Tim’s head. “It’s no big deal. We’re just loosening him up a bit!”

“I would ask why you seem to think forcing someone to drink would be a friendly gesture, but that would imply that you were thinking,” Klaus said. Tim only looked at him blankly, and Lewis sneered. He didn’t know why he bothered trying to insult them.

Bill was wrapping his arm around Klaus’ shoulders as if they were the best of friends. “You’ll thank me later baby,” he said. “Here, sit with us! Maybe you’ll learn something.”

With the way Bill was holding onto him, Klaus didn’t have much choice. He was crushed to the larger boy’s side, so he wiped his nose on his sleeve and waited for the drunken idiot to forget about him.

They ended up sitting in a circle, Lewis and Tim passing the bottle back and forth while Tim snuck glances at Klaus and Bill rambled. He was talking about sports, Klaus thought, but it was even harder to pay attention to than normal with the way Tim was flushing brighter and brighter.

And was it Klaus’ imagination, or was his head getting fuzzier? He coughed, and his head moved just a bit, but it seemed like more than usual. Was this because he’d been forced to drink?

“Hey, you okay?” Tim asked, getting on his hands and knees and crawling through the grass to get closer to Klaus.

“I’m fine,” Klaus said, careful to enunciate just in case he wasn’t.

Considering the calculating look Lewis gave him, he wasn’t sure he succeeded. Bill’s arm slipped from around his shoulders to his waist, and Tim got so close Klaus could smell the sour drink on his breath. “Hey,” he said again. “Your clothes don’t look too comfortable.”

“They’re f-fine,” Klaus replied, biting his lip. He didn’t know why he stuttered. He’d faced down Count Olaf before, and compared to him these boys were  _ nothing. _

“Here, lemme -”

“Got it!” Bill grabbed both sides of Klaus’ blazer and pulled them apart, popping off the buttons.

He laughed loudly as Klaus scrambled to pick them up and put them in his pockets. It wouldn’t do to lose them, since he and his sisters could hardly afford extra buttons. He was so preoccupied he didn’t notice the way Tim was staring at his soaked, clinging shirt, licking his lips.

“God, you’re so fucking skinny,” Bill was saying. He poked Klaus’s side, forcing him to stifle a squeak.

Klaus mustered up as much of a glare as he could. “Well, I’m  _ sorry  _ for not living up to your -”

A hand reached up and caught in Klaus’ hair, making him turn his head abruptly. He opened his mouth to make a surprised noise, and instead found wet muscle swiping over his lips.

Shocked sounds were muffled against Tim’s lips as he kissed Klaus. The smaller boy was squirming, trying to get away, but Bill was right behind him  _ hooting  _ and cheering Tim on and it felt gross and slimy and there was drool down his chin and, and,  _ and. _

When Tim pulled away at last he was panting, and Klaus was trying to ignore the renewed burning in his eyes. “What was  _ that?” _ He asked, his voice too shaky to sound cutting.

“Sorry, I just, you looked really cute so…”

“Cute? Look at this!” Bill reached around to grope at Klaus’ chest. “Nothing here dude, the kid’s a twig. How can he be cute?”

Fear began to curl in Klaus’ gut, and he remembered the way Olaf looked at Violet. Tim didn’t look nearly as sinister (that seemed to be Lewis’ thing; he was really creeping Klaus out with the way he was just  _ watching _ ) but he had the same heat, and an even more intense draw, as though Klaus were a magnet. His hands were reaching out, fumbling with Klaus’ shirt.

The buttons fell open one at a time, terribly slowly. Tim seemed to run out of patience halfway down and simply left the shirt partially done up, but that didn’t help at all. “See, here, he’s cute. Bill, move your damn hands.”

Unexpectedly, Bill did what Tim said.  _ Of course he’d listen now, _ Klaus thought. His stomach sank when he realized he sounded terrified instead of bitter, even in his own head. Surprisingly gentle hands were cupping his chest now, Tim’s thumbs rubbing over his nipples until Klaus squeaked at the unusual sensation.

“See?” Tim said again.

“You repeat yourself so o-often, I have to wonder how many words you actually know.”

Sudden pain bloomed in Klaus’ scalp, and he arched his back to try to lean into the grip on his hair. Bill shook his head abruptly, tutting. “Don’t be so mean! Tim’s the nice one, if you’re mean to him then we’ll have to be mean back.”

“That’s right,” said a voice from very close to Klaus’ shoulder. He jerked, and saw Lewis’ cold, grey eyes staring at him. “We can be  _ very  _ mean, Klaus.”

“C’mon guys,” Tim said, whiny and breathless. “He’s so small, he can’t defend himself.”

“Got that right!” Bill replied as he shook Klaus’ head again.

Not wanting to risk more retaliation, Klaus simply lay there, his back bowed between Bill and Tim’s bodies. His nipples were pebbled from the cold, but his shivering could have been any number of things: chill, fear, tension. Tim’s eyes were almost glazed as he leaned forwards and licked at Klaus’ chest.

Whispering, Klaus gave one final, futile plea. “Stop.”

No one responded. He hadn’t expected them to.

“Hey, he tastes like the whiskey,” Tim slurred. “C’mere!”

Lewis leaned forward, locking his gaze with Klaus’ again as he took the pink nub in his mouth.

As much as Klaus hated it, it didn’t feel bad; it was new, and he didn’t know how to respond, but his body pushed his chest forward for him.

“Think he likes it?” Bill said, sounding delighted. “Like a girl?”

Then Tim was kissing down Klaus’ belly, murmuring agreement, and it suddenly occurred to Klaus that  _ this was really happening. _

Thrashing wildly, Klaus managed to free himself for a moment. He stood only to find the world spinning around him, but he needed to escape,  _ needed to, _ so he ran anyway. He made it two steps before a solid weight slammed into his back, knocking the breath from him and driving him into the ground. He sniffled against the dirt, at first afraid that his nose had started running.

He tasted copper on his tongue, realized his nose was bleeding, and decided that was worse. Lewis breathed heavily into Klaus’ ear. His chest was plastered to Klaus’ back, and his legs were caging Klaus’ hips. “You’re not gonna get away,” he growled. “So don’t bother trying.”

It wasn’t fair; he was a kid too. Klaus wanted to say as much, but he was still trying to get his diaphragm to cooperate when Lewis yanked him back onto his feet. Tim seemed concerned, but as Bill looked down Klaus’ body he howled with laughter.

“I think we gave the poor lil’ baby his first boner!” Tim colored even brighter red at that, and covered his face with his hands. Klaus looked down at his own body and felt himself flushing as well, though he didn’t think it was for the same reason. Humiliation was settling in his gut, and he doubted he would’ve had a physical reaction were it not for his age.

For not the first time, Klaus thought that he hated being a child. But he couldn’t change his age, any more than he could change the fact that Lewis was making Klaus  _ sit in his lap. _ Tim crawled forward again, seeming to have no dignity, and resumed kissing Klaus’ belly.

“Maybe we should make him cum for the first time, too,” Bill said. “If he can. Itty bitty baby Baudelaire might not be able to yet.” Pinching Klaus’ aching nose, he said, “Can you cum little boy? It’s when white, sticky stuff comes outta your dick.”

“Sh-shut up,” Klaus said. Bill and Lewis both laughed, at that, but Tim was preoccupied pulling down Klaus’ pants. When they slipped past his hips, taking his underwear with them, he yelped at the sudden cold.

Tim pressed one slightly trembling fingertip against the head of Klaus’ dick. Bill was cooing mockingly, which was the only reason the boys didn’t hear Klaus’ whimper. It felt good, but he didn’t want it to. He didn’t want it to at all. “He’s circumcised,” Bill pointed out. “Too bad. I heard circumcised boys don’t get to feel as good.”

_ Circumcise  _ was an unfamiliar word to Klaus, and he couldn’t help the wide-eyed stare he gave Bill in response. It wasn’t often that idiot boys went around saying words Klaus didn’t know, unless those words were profanity, which Klaus had no interest in knowing anyway.

“Oh, I think Mr. Know-it-all is surprised!” Bill scooted away, undoing his own pants. “Here’s what a  _ real  _ dick looks like,” he said proudly.

Ironically, Bill’s dick didn’t look much different from Klaus’. It was slightly larger and had extra skin partially covering the head, but that was about it. For some reason, though, it made Klaus’ terror spike again, and he jerked away when Bill leaned closer to his face. Lewis caught him, forced him to still, and then Klaus felt something pressing into the small of his back.

Both Lewis and Bill were hard, and they didn’t even have the excuse of being touched that Klaus had. It made his mouth taste sour, that he still felt humiliated even knowing they had no basis to mock him.

All at once Tim drew Klaus’ attention again. His light, exploring touches had firmed into a grip around Klaus’ dick, and he was jerking him off (at least, that was what Klaus thought he was doing, considering the lewd conversations he’d heard older boys have in the past). Bill was touching himself much the same way, moving his hand quickly.

Klaus didn’t know where to look. Everything smelled of crushed grass and sour drink and musk. He blamed the last on Bill, but he couldn’t escape the smell no matter the cause with Lewis’ arms around him. And Lewis was grinding against him, too, he felt queasy, he  _ wanted it to end. _

The unrelenting hand on him made it worse, not better. Klaus felt drawn tight as a piano string. His balls ached, his toes curled, and he knew he was making sounds.

“So cute,” whispered Tim. Lewis chuckled in Klaus’ ear, a puff of breath that made him shiver.

On the next upstroke Tim did something with his wrist that had Klaus crying out. His muscles spasmed, legs kicking hard enough that Tim squealed and pulled away.

Bill appeared to tip over the same invisible edge the next moment, his whole face scrunching up unattractively. Unlike Klaus, however, ropes of white fluid spurted out - directly onto Klaus’ face. He was left staring in shock, still shaking hard and unsure what had happened.

If there was anything in this world Klaus hated more than the cruelty of others, it was not understanding what was happening.

“See, this here is cum!” Bill said once he’d gotten his breath back. He dragged his fingers through the cooling streaks on Klaus’ face, gathering up sticky fluid.

Behind his back, Klaus heard, “Make him eat it.”

“Ew!” Bill exclaimed. “That’s  _ so  _ gross. Fits for a bitch though.”

Reeling and overwhelmed, Klaus couldn’t stop him before he shoved his fingers in Klaus’ mouth. The bitter taste made him gag, and the pressure against his throat forced him to swallow. He tried to bite down and force Bill to back off, but the fingers were already retreating.

“Lay off,” Tim was saying. Klaus only got a moment of relief before he continued, “It’s my turn now.”

“What’re you gonna do? He already came, he’ll be boring now. Just as pathetic as usual.”

_ I am not pathetic, _ Klaus wanted to say. His mouth felt glued together.

“I know what we should do,” Lewis said, shoving Klaus out of his lap. He went sprawling, and then Lewis was wrestling his pants and briefs entirely off of him.

“We can’t do  _ that,” _ Tim said, aghast.

Giving Tim a scornful look, Lewis said, “Use his thighs. Idiot.”

“Oh.” Tim gave a breathy moan at just the thought of it, then switched places with Lewis so that Klaus was left staring at his cold eyes.

Maneuvering Klaus so that he was on his hands and knees, Tim squeezed his thighs. “You’re nice and soft,” he said happily. “Can you squeeze them together for me?”

Rebellion sounded very, very good right about now. So what if his limbs were weak and his mind tired and wobbly? Klaus could probably escape two of the three bullies, no problem.

That left Lewis, though, and… Those broad hands were sliding under Klaus’ chin, the barest ghost of pressure. Klaus shuddered, but did as Tim said. He didn’t want to find out what Lewis was capable of.

There was a rustle, and then Tim was pressing his dick between Klaus’ thighs. At least, Klaus assumed it was his dick. He wasn’t going to look down and double-check, but Tim’s pleased sound was fairly expressive. The hot, heavy thing between Klaus’ thighs moved back and forth slowly at first, as if getting a feeling for him.

“Move faster,” Lewis said sharply. “We haven’t got all night.”

“He’s so soft though,” Tim said, almost reverently. “I don’t wanna speed up.”

Suddenly Lewis’ grip on Klaus’ face turned harsh, and forced him to tilt his head back at a painful angle. “Tighten your thighs. If the idiot doesn’t ‘wanna speed up,’ then we have to make him cum faster some other way.”

With no other end in sight, Klaus complied. Tim squawked at the feeling, but Klaus couldn’t even muster a sardonic grin at the sound. Even Bill was silent, and when Klaus looked over he saw that he’d fallen asleep on the ground.

_ This didn’t matter to him at all, _ Klaus realized dully.  _ I feel so horrible, and he just goes and takes a nap. _

If he’d had a mean bone in his body, Klaus would’ve wished to beat Bill up in that moment. But that wasn’t who Klaus Baudelaire was, and so he sat there while Tim rocked his frail frame and kneaded his thighs, and tried to turn off his considerable brain power. He wouldn’t have succeeded on his own, and this is why Lewis was, perhaps, not the worst thing that could’ve happened to him.

“Look at me.” Klaus didn’t respond immediately. His eyes had fallen shut, and he didn’t know when, and damnit, he was tired too.  _ “Look at me.” _

Abruptly a blow hit the side of his head, and then another on the opposite side. They left his ears ringing, and he opened bleary eyes to see Lewis’ hand raised to backhand him. “That’s better,” Lewis said, sounding entirely insincere. “Keep looking at me, or I’ll hit you again.”

“B-be-be,  _ ngh.” _

“Shut up, Tim. I don’t need to hear your disgusting moaning.”

“You don’t mind  _ his  _ moaning.”

“Neither do you.” The hand under his chin gentled into a petting motion again. “It’s cute.”

In the lull Klaus’ eyes had closed again. He forced them open in a panic, hoping Lewis hadn’t noticed. He didn’t seem to have.

Tim did finish, eventually. He splattered Klaus’ thighs with the same liquid Bill had, leaving them uncomfortable and sore. Then he and Lewis helped Klaus back into his clothes, and Lewis said, “I’ll walk him home.” Tim murmured agreement. He was busy waking Bill, now.

Halfway through stumbling back to the Orphan’s Shack, however, Klaus realized something was wrong. Lewis was watching him like a hawk. He barely even blinked.

Never one to back down when faced with evil, Klaus stopped and said, “Alright, out with it. What do you want me to do to you?”

For a split second Lewis looked surprised, then his face smoothed out again. “Nothing right now. You’re swaying.”

“True, but irrelevant. I’d rather get it out of the way.”

“That’s the thing, though.” Lewis stepped forward, looming over Klaus threateningly. “It’s not up to you, and I say  _ not now.” _

Fear curdled in Klaus’ stomach. He  _ was  _ tired. He wanted the day to be over. Maybe that was why he didn’t argue too much longer, and meekly followed Lewis back to the Shack.

Or maybe it was because he knew, even then, that he and his siblings would be gone before Lewis could enact whatever plan he’d come up with. After all, none of their other homes had lasted very long.

So Klaus cleaned himself with a sink and a dirty rag, and thought very hard about not thinking. If he didn’t sleep that night it didn’t matter much anyway. The Baudelaires were used to not sleeping well. Truthfully, the thing that bothered him most in the morning was the way Violet didn’t ask too much about his bruises.

Then again, he didn’t know what he would say if she had been more adamant about getting answers. Probably something he would regret even more than the alcohol that left him headachy.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never read the ASoUE books and I’ve watched like… four episodes. This is a commission fic for anonymous who wanted to see Klaus Baudelaire beaten and upset, okay, it’s completely shameless and unrelated to the plot of the series. I hope y’all like it anyway :””)


End file.
